Timor-Leste’s battle to belong in Asean

It was 1999. Just after lunch, pro-Indonesian militia stormed her family home in the coastal town of Liquica. Wearing red-and-white headbands – the colours of the Indonesian flag – they carried knives and shouted threats. They were hunting down her father.

"They threw rocks and shouted at my mother, 'If we don't find your husband, we will kill you'," she told The Straits Times, her voice shaking. "My father escaped through the window."

The day before, she had seen a militiaman press a gun to her uncle's head. He survived, barely. Soon after, the family fled across the border to Atambua town in Indonesia.

It was a terrifying chapter in the final days of Indonesia's 24-year occupation of Timor-Leste. In an Aug 30, 1999, referendum backed by the United Nations, nearly 80 per cent of Timorese had voted for independence.

The result sparked a wave of violence by pro-Jakarta forces unhappy with the outcome. They torched homes in the capital Dili, looted offices and churches, and hunted down those backing the breakaway – resulting in more than 2,000 Timorese deaths and decimating 75 per cent of the fledgling nation's infrastructure. More than 250,000 people were displaced from their homes, according to UNHCR, the UN refugee agency.

Ms Muda and her family returned to Timor-Leste before the territory formally gained independence on May 20, 2002. She enrolled in school in the capital. For a brief moment, it seemed like peace had arrived.

Then violence erupted again. On April 28, 2006, clashes between soldiers, police and youth gangs paralysed Dili once more.

"It brought everything back," Ms Muda said. "They shot into our neighbourhood from the hills. My friend and I picked bullets off the ground."

She paused, eyes glistening. "Why does this keep happening? Why must we hide again?"

Now 31, Ms Muda is a law graduate who topped her faculty at the National University of Timor-Leste. As she prepares for the Bar exam while working at a Singapore-founded law firm, she advocates for justice, women's rights and youth empowerment, and dreams of a future where no child in Timor-Leste has to flee from gunfire.

"I want to fight for justice and equal rights," she said. "I don't want the past to repeat. It's frightening. It's traumatising."

Her hope lies in Asean. To her, Timor-Leste's membership in the grouping means opportunity: skills, networks and motivation to move forward.

"If we want to compete with others in the region, we have to improve ourselves. That gives us strength," she said of the former Portuguese colony. "Leste" means east in Portuguese.

Timor-Leste's territory includes the eastern half of Timor island, the outlying islands of Atauro and Jaco, and the Oecusse enclave, where the Portuguese first landed around 1515.

Asean dreams, political realities

Inside the presidential palace in Dili, a room stands ready for official use. Flags of South-east Asian nations – all 10 current members of the regional grouping – stand on polished poles, and portraits of their leaders line the walls. This is the Asean Hall.

President Jose Ramos-Horta hopes the stately hall will soon host Timor-Leste's first meetings as a full member of the regional grouping.

The Nobel Peace laureate and former political activist, who survived a 2008 assassination attempt, is now waging a different battle: to secure a seat for his young nation at South-east Asia's table.

"We would have to be very dumb people when we have such rich neighbours, successful, and we don't benefit from it," he told ST in an interview in May. "So you join an organisation of stable, strong economies – we tend to gain. We have nothing to lose."

Timor-Leste applied for Asean membership in 2011. It was granted observer status in 2022, but is still under scrutiny as the grouping assesses its readiness.

Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim – whose country is the Asean chair in 2025 – announced at the Asean Summit on May 27 that Timor-Leste will become a full member of the regional grouping at its meeting scheduled for October 2025.

The half-island nation – located between eastern Indonesia and northern Australia, and 20 times bigger than Singapore – will then be Asean's 11th member.

Mr Ramos-Horta said the country had met six of seven benchmarks on Asean's road map. The final challenge lies in economic reforms, including improvements to infrastructure and compliance with trade agreements.

He acknowledged initial resistance from some member nations, citing concerns such as the country's fragile institutions, limited resources and governance gaps. Still, Asean accession has topped his agenda since he returned to office in 2022. He was previously also president from 2007 to 2012.

"In retrospect, I am profusely thankful to those who insisted that we are not ready… Asean will always focus on human resources development, economic development of Timor-Leste. And so that's what we ended up doing all these years. We have made tremendous progress," he said.

The Asean Hall has already welcomed heavyweight visitors such as the late Pope Francis, the Sultan of Brunei, and Cambodian strongman Hun Sen.

Timor-Leste's Vice-Minister for Asean Affairs Milena Rangel reflected on the country's long road to get to where it is today.

"We are coming from a country that was completely destroyed. We developed from the ashes," she told ST. "You can imagine, institutionally, we had to rebuild a nation from scratch."

Since February 2023, Timor-Leste has attended every Asean-related meeting. But beyond the photo ops, full membership hinges on hard economics. The country lacks free trade agreements and has only a handful of trained negotiators, Ms Rangel said.

Timor-Leste's recent step into the World Trade Organisation has helped lay the groundwork. But for one of Asia's poorest nations, the climb is steep.

"We don't want to be isolated," said Ms Rangel. "Timor-Leste would like to be part of this organisation (Asean) not only as the beneficiary – it would also like to be a valuable member and contribute."

Support from regional neighbours has started to flow. Singapore alone has trained more than 800 officials through the Stars – Singapore-Timor-Leste Asean Readiness Support – programme.

One beneficiary is Mr Charles Guterres, 46, principal of a hospitality and tourism school for students aged 15 to 17. After training in Singapore in 2024 and 2025, he returned with a vision.

Inspired by the city-state's model – where industry professionals teach practical skills – he overhauled his school's approach.

Students now visit hotels, factories and restaurants for hands-on learning. English has become the working language.

"Before, some teachers didn't want to learn English. I told them 'no'. This is a tourism school, so you have to improve your English. Everyone is forced to speak English now. This is the rule I have," he told ST.

Still, political stability remains a lingering concern. Although violence has largely subsided, power struggles between Timor-Leste's two dominant parties, the ruling National Congress for Timorese Reconstruction and the opposition Fretilin, continue to define the nation's politics.

Since independence in 2002, three familiar figures have dominated: President Ramos-Horta, Prime Minister Xanana Gusmao and opposition leader Mari Alkatiri.

Mr Gusmao and Mr Ramos-Horta have taken turns as president and prime minister. Mr Alkatiri, head of Fretilin, has twice served as prime minister.

Under the "semi-presidential system", the only one of its kind in South-east Asia, the elected president handles foreign affairs and defence. The prime minister, selected by Parliament and appointed by the president, runs domestic policy and the economy.

Mr Gusmao's flagship initiative is the Tasi Mane project – a multibillion-dollar bid to process gas from the offshore Greater Sunrise field domestically. He calls it essential for national development. Critics, including Mr Alkatiri, say it is a gamble.

Criticising Mr Gusmao's leadership on several policy fronts, Mr Alkatiri told ST: "Now we are passing through a big constitutional crisis."

"Because the problem is, when you keep leading the country, you become a victim of your own ego," he added. "What we need to have is a clear vision, a clear policy and a clear programme to develop the country."

Mr Alkatiri supports Asean membership, but calls for a five-year transition plan. He has also slammed the management of the country's oil wealth. Much has been drawn from the nation's Petroleum Fund, he said, yet the country still lacks basic services like health, housing or education.

The International Monetary Fund said Timor-Leste has saved revenue from its offshore oil and gas fields in the Petroleum Fund, which now exceeds US$18 billion (S$23.1 billion) — roughly 10 times the country's annual gross domestic product.

Mr Alkatiri has not spoken to Mr Gusmao since 2017. "I'm ready for dialogue. But we need to respect each other first," the opposition leader said.

Mr Ramos-Horta agreed that internal reform is overdue. He blamed two of his predecessors, Mr Taur Matan Ruak and Mr Francisco Guterres, for "completely mismanaging" ties with Parliament and the executive.

Years of political patronage have bloated the public sector, Mr Ramos-Horta said, adding that the civil service needs "a complete revamping" and "serious downsizing". He hopes to halve its size without causing any social and political problems. He has yet to raise the matter with Mr Gusmao.

The President likened the situation to a fable.

"You know the story of the frog and, I think, a cow. The frog looked at the cow and was very jealous of how big it was. So the frog started drinking water, drinking, drinking, growing bigger and bigger — and then blew herself up," Mr Ramos-Horta said.

"In Singapore, you are fortunate… If Singaporean leaders had begun to play around with democracy like Timor-Leste, I don't think you'd be the Singapore of today."

On great-power tensions, Timor-Leste will tread carefully, refusing to choose between the United States and China, both of which it maintains good relations with, he said.

"I will say in a bit of a pragmatic way, my philosophy is when you see a tiger or a lion walking down your bush road… what do you do? Better hide in the bush, or climb up a coconut tree. So, when I see President Trump walking down the dirt road, I hide in the bush."

Young dreams, bold futures

At Jardim 5 de Maio, a popular park in central Dili, children swing from monkey bars, teenagers kick footballs, and students pore over books under shady shelters. Some were selling national flags ahead of May 20, the day Timor-Leste became fully independent.

Among the young people there was Mr Octavio Belo, 23, a social science undergraduate catching his breath after a game of cricket. His hopes are clear. "Decent jobs, better infrastructure and more opportunities," he said.

A recent trip to Indonesia's popular tourist destination Bali left a strong impression on him. "Their airport is very big," he told ST, bluntly comparing it with Dili's modest Presidente Nicolau Lobato International Airport.

That is beginning to change. On May 20, the government broke ground on a long-delayed airport upgrade, in partnership with a Japanese consortium. The multimillion-dollar project includes a two-storey terminal and a longer runway – from 1,850m to 3,000m.

By 2028, the airport aims to serve up to one million passengers annually and connect Dili to major cities across Asia. The airport, named after a national hero, today serves around 200,000 passengers annually, according to a 2014 report by The Asia Foundation.

The development signals ambition, but also lays bare how much more is needed, especially for Timor-Leste's youth.

A nation gears up for growth

In most South-east Asian cities, a five-storey mall is unremarkable. In Dili, it is a landmark.

Timor Plaza is Timor-Leste's only shopping mall, which opened in 2011 – and is arguably the most modern facility in the country. But it is more than a place to shop. It is where business deals are made, where foreigners gather, and where Dili's elite meet over coffee.

Law firms, banks, developers and travel agencies occupy the upper floors. A hotel sits at the top. On the ground floor, shelves are lined with Chinese-brand mobile phones, South-east Asian snacks and made-in-China household goods.

At the hotel's breakfast buffet, a mix of foreign accents – European, Antipodean, South American and South-east Asian, including Singaporean – hints at the capital's small but growing international footprint. Where Starbucks and McDonald's are the norm elsewhere, it is Burger King and Australian coffee chain Gloria Jean's that serve Dili's affluent crowd, mostly expatriates.

Step outside, and the contrast is striking.

At Taibesi market, vendors squat beside tarpaulins under the blazing sun, selling vegetables, bundles of firewood and live chickens.